


A Handful of Flowers

by dreyars



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Fluff, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 07:18:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3348437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreyars/pseuds/dreyars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's traditional to give your significant other flowers for special occasions.  The standard is the red rose for all things romantic, but under the hands of a skilled florist, you may just find yourself falling deep into love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Handful of Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I imagine that Ennoshita and Fukunaga are about 23/24 here, and yup! That's all for setting the premise.

Of all the Saturdays Ennoshita’s boss could’ve asked him to come in, it would’ve been today.  Of course it was today.  Even if he was only working until 3, the impromptu call had pushed him behind schedule and had him sweating as he very nearly sprinted to all the different places he needed to go to make sure that tonight was absolutely _perfect_ for his date.  He had already stashed away a nice bottle of wine and what he remembered to be her favorite coffee somewhere in his kitchen.  He’d taken the time to pull out one of his nicer suits to fit the air of the restaurant that she’d been not so subtly hinting at for the past month.  All that was left was to pick up the small bouquet of flowers that he had ordered over a week ago from the flower shop down the street from his workplace.

It had been a hell of a week.  So bad that he nearly forgot to call his date to check to make sure she was still ready to go that night.  She never actually called back, but he did get her to answer a text on Thursday night saying that she was ready to see what he had planned.  They had only been dating since the beginning of December, but she was so perfect that Ennoshita couldn’t imagine why she would actually take the time to be with him.  He couldn’t even find the right words to describe her because how could you describe someone who embodied the feeling of walking on water?

Ennoshita smiled softly to himself as he walked through the doors of the flower shop at 20 minutes past six.  His reservations weren’t due until 7, but he wanted to get to the restaurant before her so that she didn’t have to stand outside in the cold by herself.  He shot her a quick message to let her know he was about to be on his way before walking up to the counter.

Ennoshita was surprised at how quiet the shop was, considering it was getting to be quite late on Valentine’s Day.  The lights were already dim and the coolers that probably once housed ready to go displays were nearly empty.  Ennoshita hesitantly looked around to see if the shop owner was around before tapping the bell on the front counter.

A few seconds later, a skinny young man in a green apron popped out from the back room, a few rose stems in one hand, and a set of florist’s shears in the other. He set his tools down on the counter as he walked forward, looking at Ennoshita expectantly.

“Hi, yes.  I have an order I need to pick up…”

The young man nodded quickly before picking up a notebook from below the counter.  He flipped through the pages casually, turning the notebook to Ennoshita when he found what he was looking for.  The man tapped the page with a finger, showing Ennoshita his order.  When he nodded, the man sat the notebook down and pointed again, making a signing movement with his hand when Ennoshita didn’t move to do anything.

Once he signed his name on the paper, the notebook disappeared and the young man held up one finger on each hand, signaling Ennoshita to wait while he went back into the storage room.  He emerged again shortly with a bouquet in her favorite colors (blue and yellow) that was small enough to handle while he went to dinner, but beautiful enough to get her to smile.  The young man presented it with both hands, grinning slightly as he handed it over.

“I owe 40 dollars, right?”

The clerk nodded, sticking out his hands to accept the cash Ennoshita pulled from his wallet.  He examined the money for a few seconds before pulling out a business card that was stuck between the bills.  He squinched his eyes up, looking at the card closely before handing it back over.

“Karasuno?” The young clerk’s voice was a little rough, gravely and slightly high pitched at the same time. Though it wasn’t unpleasant.

“Ah, yeah.  I played volleyball there during high school, and one of my old senpais works as a teacher there now.”

The young man’s eyes widened in surprise, and he tapped his own nose as if he had just realized something.  He pointed sharply at himself before simply stating, “Nekoma.”

“Really? I’m sorry, but if we were in high school at the same time, I’m afraid I don’t remember your name.”

The man closed his eyes, nodding solemnly as if he had expected just that. However, he still stuck out a hand for Ennoshita to shake. “Fukunaga.”

“Ah, that does sound familiar.” Ennoshita gripped Fukunaga’s outstretched hand, noting that even though his fingertips were rough and dry with callouses, his palm was still clammy due to the slightly humid air in the shop.  His grip was also strong despite the thin, willowy look of his fingers.  And the way Fukunaga stared at him with such genuine interest and sincerity made his throat clench up in a weird way.  “Ennoshita Chikara.”

Fukunaga nodded and smiled, roughly stating “I know” as he drops Ennoshita’s hand.

“Well, I have to go now, but it was nice seeing you again?” Ennoshita saluted him with the bouquet in his hand.  His statement came out as more like a question because he still wasn’t really sure he had met the other man before, despite vaguely recognizing the name.  “We should get together for drinks some time if you like. If we really were playing at the same time, I wouldn’t mind reminiscing over how we finally beat you guys during my last spring tournament.”

Fukunaga grinned with his lips pressed tight together in a way that Ennoshita couldn’t tell if he had just struck a nerve or not. He let himself relax again though when Fukunaga pulled his notebook full of order slips back out and pointed to an empty phone number spot. Quickly scrawling out his number on the page, Ennoshita smiled at his new, or rather old, acquaintance as he walked out of the front door with a wave.

He thinks he heard a whispered ‘good luck’ as the bell chimed on his way out, but he couldn’t be quite sure.

\----

His heart was pounding by the time he arrived at the restaurant. Whether it was from the brisk walk from the flower shop or from the nervousness of seeing his date, he couldn’t be sure. But she wasn’t there when he arrived at the restaurant.  And she wasn’t there when 7:00 rolled around.  But that wasn’t that big of a deal. She often had to work on the weekend as well, so maybe she had just gotten held back. No big deal.

But she still wasn’t there when he forced himself to sit down at the reserved table at 10 after 7. If he didn’t sit down, he would lose the reservation and everything after that point would’ve been fucked. And anyways, she would be here in a few minutes, right?

Ennoshita toyed with a napkin between his hands, the cloth not giving the satisfying rip a paper napkin would have had.  She still wasn’t here after 20 minutes at the table, and she gave no hint as to her location after numerous phone calls and a few texts.  He noticed that all of the messages got read within a minute of being sent due to the fact that she always had her read receipt turned on.

He swallowed thickly as the waiter came over and tapped him on the shoulder.

“If you don’t order in the next ten minutes, we are going to have to ask you to give up your table for a paying customer, sir.”

Ennoshita looked up at the waiter with a scowl, subtly hinting that he deserved a little more sympathy than that.  The waiter simply shrugged, mumbling something about it being a busy night before walking away.

Checking his phone one last time for any new messages, Ennoshita stood from his table with a loud sigh, causing patrons of nearby tables to look up at him with a mixture of annoyance and pity.  He ignored them, simply grabbing his wasted bouquet and leaving.

He tried a phone call one last time before giving up when the line only gave a half ring before shooting off to voicemail.  With a frustrated sigh, he shoved his phone into his pocket and started to walk.

The night was crisp and cool and refreshing despite the heat of disappointment, embarrassment, and anger sitting along the line of his neck.  He wasn’t sure where he was going, and he wasn’t sure he was ever going to get there, he just knew he didn’t want to go back to his apartment.  Not yet. Not when he felt like a stone sinking in a lake.

Thirty minutes and too many steps later found him sitting on a park bench somewhere between the restaurant and his home.  The wind was doing its best to cut through him and tear him apart, but somehow he managed to keep himself in one piece as he stared across the park at nothing in particular.  It was pretty abandoned by this time; all the children had already made their way home, and only the first of the valentiners were beginning their slow trek home for the night.  He figured he should probably get up and go on his own way if he wanted to avoid the pity filled gazes off couples walking past, but he felt glued to the cold metal bench and couldn’t do much more than adjust his position so that a loose screw was no longer pressing into the back of his thigh.

He had no idea how long he was sitting there when he felt a tap on his shoulder.  Ennoshita threw a glance up behind him to see Fukunaga standing behind the bench.  The young man cocked his head to the side, seeming to implore if Ennoshita was alright.

Ennoshita sighed, shaking his head as he patted the seat on the bench beside him.  Fukunaga moved around the bench to sit down, moving almost silently as he took his seat.  Ennoshita probably wouldn’t even be able to tell that the other man was breathing if he didn’t see his chest rising and falling in a soft rhythm.  But his silence wasn’t uncomfortable as they sat together for a few minutes.  Rather, like Fukunaga, the silence was a presence that made him feel a little less shitty about being stood up on Valentine’s Day.

Fukunaga didn’t make any move to ask questions, in fact, he didn’t even look at Ennoshita until he let out a loud sigh.  Concern was present in his eyes, but he waited instead of pressing forward.  He waited to let Ennoshita say what he needed to on his own.

“I got stood up.  How lame is that?” Ennoshita laughed to himself and stretched his arms over the back of the bench.  It wasn’t like him to just start spilling his life story to everyone he knew, especially not other guys he only vaguely remembered from high school.  But as Fukunaga turned his body to face him, a pouty frown gracing his face as he listened, Ennoshita knew it would be okay if he vented at him for a little while.  It almost felt natural, as if they had known each other for years.  “I mean, it wouldn’t have been so bad if it was just some girl who I didn’t know.  But we’d been dating for two months. Two. Months.”  Ennoshita turned to Fukunaga, holding up two fingers to the other man.

Fukunaga didn’t really respond, his frown simply deepening as he patted the arm Ennoshita had laid behind his back.

“I don’t know, man. I just feel so stupid. Did you know I didn’t even get the courtesy of a phone call saying she wasn’t coming. Or even a text message. Not a damn thing.” Ennoshita dropped his arms, letting them fall into his lap.  His hand brushed against the bouquet still sitting beside his leg, nearly forgotten if it wasn’t for the sickly sweet scent that washed over him every time the wind picked up.  “And I spent all this money on her too. What a waste.”

Fukunaga gasped, as if he had forgotten that he had been the one to help Ennoshita in the flower shop just an hour or two earlier.  He began fumbling for something in his pocket, hissing under his breath when he couldn’t grab what he was searching for.  Soon, he pulled out a plain brown wallet from which he procured a short stack of money which equaled about as much as what Ennoshita paid for the bouquet. Fukunaga tried to shove the money into Ennoshita’s hands, making an effort to squeeze his fingers shut around the bills when he pushed it away.

“No, you earned it. You did a fantastic job and it’s not your fault that I can’t keep a date.”

Fukunaga sighed, stuffing the money back in his own pocket.  Instead, he stuck out his hands, holding them there until Ennoshita placed the flowers into his palms.  Fukunaga popped up from the bench, walking over to the nearest trashcan. He made sure Ennoshita was watching him as he unraveled the ribbon from around the flowers’ stems. One by one he let the flowers fall from between his fingers into the bin, only walking back over to Ennoshita once he had let the ribbon flutter away in the evening breeze.

He returned to Ennoshita sitting on the bench, pulling out a single yellow flower and sticking it in the pocket of Ennoshita’s coat.  Fukunaga smiled down at him and held out a hand, pulling Ennoshita off of the bench.  When they were both standing, Fukunaga rubbed at his own stomach before poking a boney finger into Ennoshita’s belly.

“Are you asking if I’m hungry?”

Fukunaga nodded, patting his stomach for emphasis.

“I could eat.” Fukunaga grinned at Ennoshita’s response, hooking an arm through his elbow and leading him down the sidewalk and out of the park.  More couples were starting to find their way through the park, so Ennoshita pulled his arm out of Fukunaga’s loose hold so as not to give off the impression that they were together too.  “You don’t talk much, do you?”

Fukunaga, who was maybe two or three centimeters taller than him, simply shrugged his shoulders at the question. Instead he just keeps walking, pointing at a small restaurant across the street from the park.  He looked up and down the street before grabbing Ennoshita’s sleeve and jogging across the road.

There were still lights on in the restaurant when they reached the glass doors, though the sign on the window was already flipped to closed.  Despite this, Fukunaga knocked on the door sharply, three tight raps on the glass, calling a tall, brown haired man to the front of the store.  He wiped his hands on his apron before twisting the lock, allowing the pair of them inside.

“Fukunaga-san! You brought a friend tonight!” The man clapped a hand to Fukunaga’s back, leaving a floury white handprint on his dark coat.  After trying to dust the mess off of Fukunaga’s back, he turns to greet Ennoshita. “Inuoka Sou.”

He tries to avoid the dusty handshake, but is unsuccessful as Inuoka wraps him up with big hands. “Ennoshita Chikara.”

“Oh! That name sounds familiar. Did you go to high school in Tokyo?”

“Karasuno,” Fukunaga calls out, popping up from behind the bus boy’s stand in the back of the room.  He’s filled up two glasses with ice and water, and sets them on a table close to the kitchen.

“Oh, yeah I remember you now! You were the captain during my second year, right? Or during Shouyou’s second year, yeah?”

Inuoka’s exuberance was surely refreshing, Ennoshita thought. It reminded him a lot of his old team, and while he didn’t really remember most of the Nekoma players by name, his energy was definitely familiar.  “That’s right.”

“Wow, that’s awesome! It’s great that you and Fukunaga-san kept in contact. We never really thought he clicked with anyone at the training camps and having those connections later has really helped me out at least.”

“Fukunaga and I actually just became reacquainted this afternoon.  But I understand what you mean.  I still have contact with Akaashi from Fukurodani from time to time, but since he doesn’t live in Tokyo anymore, it hasn’t amounted to much.”

“Awe that’s too bad! Well, you’re always welcome here, Ennoshita-san!” Inuoka moved to pat Ennoshita on the back as well, but stopped just before his hand made contact with his jacket as a loud crash sounded from the kitchen.  “Fukunaga-san, please stop! I’ll make something for you in just a second!”

Ennoshita laughed to himself as Inuoka sprinted off to the kitchen to stop whatever chaos was about to ensue.  Less than a minute later, Fukunaga reappeared from the kitchen with a basket of bread in his hands.  Setting it down on the table, he grabbed another glass from the bus boy stand and filled it half full with water before pulling Ennoshita down into a chair.  Fukunaga reaches across the table and pulls the yellow rose out of Ennoshita’s pocket before dropping it into the glass.  He looks so pleased with the setup of the table that Ennoshita can’t help but laugh as he takes the time to make sure the flower is standing up straight in the glass.

“You’re really good at that, you know.”  Ennoshita props a hand under his chin, watching as Fukunaga adjusts the placement of their glasses on the table.  “I’m really surprised.  It doesn’t really seem like a job for a young guy.”

Fukunaga’s eyes sparkled from the praise, hands falling into his lap as he finished adjusting everything. He turned his head to the side and let out a short cough before saying, “my mom…”

Ennoshita waited for Fukunaga to finish his sentence as he drawled off into silence, but when it became apparent that the other man wasn’t going to continue, he spoke up.  “Is it your mom’s shop?”

Fukunaga nodded, his head bouncing back and forth quickly, apparently happy that Ennoshita was able to understand.

“That’s cool.  Were you the one that made my order?”

“All of them…” Fukunaga moved a hand in a rainbow above his head.

“Nice. You really are very talented. I was never very good at that kind of thing. It requires too much delicacy for my hands.”

Fukunaga flushed slightly and tugged on the front of his shirt when Ennoshita smiled back at him. He made a quick jab towards Ennoshita with his fingers. “You?”

“Me? Well, I’ve been working with a graphic design company since I graduated college…”

Fukunaga rounded out his mouth, almost as if he was saying ‘oh’ and leaned forward onto the table to listen.

“And I just got transferred to the offices here in Tokyo about six months ago.  It’s nice, but not exactly what I had planned to be doing with my degree.  The schedule is also pretty hellish so I haven’t really had time to make many connections in the area yet. Well, other than the one that you’ve gotten to see the explosive end to.”

Fukunaga stuck his bottom lip out, pouting as he listened.  He tapped a couple of fingers against the arm Ennoshita had stretched across the table before gleefully pointing at himself.

“Yeah, you’re right.  I guess we’ll have to hang out again sometime, right?” The other boy put a squirrely grin on his face and held up two thumbs in confirmation.  “Under less depressing circumstances, of course.”

Fukunaga shook his head solemnly, patting the back of Ennoshita’s hand as Inuoka returned with two plates of food.

“Here you guys go, two servings of whatever was left in the kitchen after the dinner rush. You’ll find in front of you samples of dishes my parents thought were ‘romantic’ enough for Valentine’s day without considering the fact that they still close way too early on a Saturday for anyone to come in and eat it.” Inuoka sat the plates down in front of them and started making his way back to the kitchen.  “If you need anything, I’ll be cleaning up back here.  Don’t talk his ear off, Fukunaga-san!”

The target of that jab turned around towards Inuoka’s retreating back, pressing back his nose with his thumb and sticking out his tongue as the door to the kitchen swung closed. With a soft sigh, he turned back around to face his dining partner.  With an apologetic look, Fukunaga mumbles, “loud.”

Ennoshita laughs, scooping a bit of food off of his plate.  “It’s alright.  He really reminds me of some of my old friends, so it’s kind of nostalgic.”

Fukunaga hummed, his spoon hanging out of his mouth as he considered what Ennoshita said.  He propped his cheek on his hand and pointed at himself.

“You? No, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone quite like you before.”

That seemed to please Fukunaga as he hummed again, closing his eyes as he spooned another bite of food into his mouth.

Ennoshita found himself laughing again at Fukunaga’s contented face. Nope. Definitely never met someone like him before.

\------

The rest of their dinner passed smoothly, with Inuoka popping up here and there to assure that everything was okay with their meals.  Ennoshita discovered that Fukunaga was an interesting presence considering the fact that he didn’t talk much.  Sometimes their conversation passed thirty whole minutes without Fukunaga saying one word, only making small noises or gesturing in a broad kind of way that Ennoshita could usually understand.  It was an interesting way of communicating because it wasn’t any official form of sign language, and if it had been, Ennoshita doubted he would’ve been able to understand the intricacies of the signs.  But the way Fukunaga communicated was so clear and distinct, Ennoshita was surprised he didn’t remember him from all those years ago.  But the surprise was always overpowered whenever Inuoka walked back in the room and Fukunaga just faded into the background.

Fukunaga walked with him on his way home, pausing at a corner when Ennoshita made a move to turn down a side street.  Ennoshita turned back to look at him, already used to his quirky presence.  Fukunaga jabbed his thumb behind his shoulder when Ennoshita gave him a look.

“You live that way?”

Fukunaga nodded, waving goodbye with both of his hands.

“Well, thank you for cheering me up, Fukunaga.  I actually forgot for a while what I was so angry about earlier.  I’m glad that I met you again.” Ennoshita presented a hand to shake goodbye, but let it drop again when Fukunaga placed a hand on each of his shoulders instead.  Ennoshita froze as his breath caught in his throat, Fukunaga’s hands heavy and holding him in place.  His daze was broken when he felt a flick on his nose, and a light hearted giggle from the man standing in front of him.

Fukunaga reached forward, giving Ennoshita the handshake he had ignored a few seconds ago, yet holding on for longer than might be considered appropriate.  He pursed his lips in a way that Ennoshita had already come to recognize as his way of letting him know that he was about to speak. “She’s dumb.”

Ennoshita sighed, his shoulders sagging forward as Fukunaga released his hand. “That’s nice of you to say, but I still kind of feel like shit. At least I got out now right?”  He laughed cynically at his own misfortune, nearly missing what Fukunaga mumbled in response.

“I think you’re great.”

The praise made Ennoshita stutter, his cheeks heating up as he tried to come up with an appropriate response.  “Thank you.  But you’ve only just started to get to know me, so you may want to hold off on your judgments until later.”

“Start?” Fukunaga cocked his head to the side, round eyes widening as he stared at Ennoshita earnestly.

“Yeah, I was thinking we could hang out together again sometime.  I had fun, and it would be nice to have some friends in the area.” Ennoshita stuffed his hands into his pockets to avoid the need to awkwardly swing them back and forth. “Is that all right?”

Fukunaga bobbed his head, happily agreeing to Ennoshita’s suggestion. He held his hand up to his ear, mimicking a phone.

“If it’s easier on you, you don’t have to call.  Just send a text or something when you have a free day, and we’ll see what we can do. Alright?”  Fukunaga grinned, sending an affirmative smile Ennoshita’s way.  “Good, then I’ll see you then. Have a safe walk home.”

Ennoshita turned to make his way home, waving over his shoulder as Fukunaga’s soft footsteps quickly faded out of his hearing range.

By the time he got home, he already had a text stating the days the flower shop was always closed, as well as an inquiry into whether or not Ennoshita was allergic to any flowers.

He felt a smile curl across his face as he typed back, laughing as he got a response back from Fukunaga only seconds after his message was sent.  Fukunaga prodded him again, as he had somehow forgotten to answer the allergy question.

He’d never really been a flower person, so he wasn’t quite sure if there was anything he was allergic to. Just daisies.

\-------

Somehow, despite his busy schedule, Ennoshita found a way to nearly always meet up with his new friend every weekend.  It was nice having someone there who wasn’t a coworker, which were the only kind of friends he had managed to foster since moving to Tokyo.  He never had to work on Sundays unless there was an emergency, and that day just so happened to conveniently line up with the one day a week that the flower shop was closed. Fukunaga was slowly becoming a fixture in his life (mostly on his couch) and he couldn’t say that he minded.  Fukunaga was obviously a home body.  He very much preferred to spend time inside with Ennoshita than bother going out.  Ennoshita understood, not really liking the nightlife scene as well (and knowing how shitty the ‘night life’ on a Sunday could be, it was probably better that they remained at Ennoshita’s apartment).

Fukunaga still didn’t talk much, but he began to speak more freely each time they got together.  He was more vocal about what he wanted to do (usually revolving around movies, video games, or simply sitting together and reading a book).  Ennoshita enjoyed it all, slowly picking up on nuanced little parts of Fukunaga’s personality that he never would have realized had he not bothered to take the time. 

Fukunaga was _funny_. And not in a dirty, vulgar sort of way that so many men their age were.  It usually came as a little quip that tacked on to the end of something more serious that Ennoshita had just said.  He had an amazing ability to diffuse tension and relax situations with this comedic ability, especially when he said his bits with his plain, stoic face.  The actual jokes came in little spurts throughout the day via text, usually during at the worst possible time.   Ennoshita learned that reading a joke that is so hilarious that it makes him cry in the middle of a staff method does nothing for his credibility, but he couldn’t find it in himself to tell Fukunaga to stop when it began happening on a daily basis.

Fukunaga liked old monster movies and could play nearly every obscure superhero’s theme on a harmonica.  He could also play the guitar and liked to write songs, complete with lyrics and everything, but he has never sung a word of his own music.  He was also incredibly skilled at making things with his hands that required more delicacy than Ennoshita could ever manage to produce from his own fingers.  Aside from arranging pristine flower displays, Fukunaga also began to teach Ennoshita how to knit as a way to focus his stress into something productive.  He could make small paper flowers and turn them into flower arrangements, as well.

Fukunaga was so interesting and complex and different compared to any one Ennoshita had spent time with before.  Ennoshita enjoyed just being around him, and was glad they were able to become as close as they had.

It was a Friday night in April when Ennoshita got out of work early for a rare change of pace.  He decided to make a quick pop in at Fukunaga’s shop to see if he wanted to catch dinner before heading home.  When he arrived, Fukunaga’s mother was arranging a small vase at the front counter.  She lifted her head from her work and smiled at him when she heard the bell ring, already used to his presence after the two months he had been coming around.  She softly called out her son’s name over her shoulder, and Ennoshita didn’t have to wait long until Fukunaga’s face popped out from behind the back doorway. He quickly shuffled over, stepping around his mother as he looked at Ennoshita expectantly.

“Wanna take a break?”

Fukunaga’s head began to bob in affirmation before he stopped mid nod. He turned around to face his mother, humming happily when she waved off his unspoken question and told him to just go. Fukunaga held up two hands, signaling Ennoshita to wait as if he actually believed his friend would disappear when he went back into the backroom to ditch his apron and grab his jacket.

His patience was rewarded when Fukunaga returned, stuffing a small, dark pink rose in the pocket on Ennoshita’s shirt, and patting it gently to settle it right over his heart. His hands were warm for a change, and Ennoshita heard his mother laugh when Fukunaga was fully satisfied with the placement of the flower.

The display made Ennoshita’s face heat up, but he didn’t think it meant much considering Fukunaga always made strange little acts of affection like that from time to time, and he chalked it up to nothing more than a friendly gesture.  Instead of making a big deal out of it, he just let Fukunaga grab him by the elbow and pull him out the front door.

When they had already taken off a ways down the sidewalk, Fukunaga squeezed his hand around Ennoshita’s bicep.  Funny that he hadn’t realized that Fuku hadn’t yet dropped his hand.

When Ennoshita looked over at him, Fuku simply gave him a questioning look, inquiring as to where they were going.

“Food?” Fukunaga squeezed his arm again as his way of agreeing to Ennoshita’s question.  “Good, because my coworkers keep talking about this outdoor café on the other side of the park.  I’d thought we could try that instead of going to Inuoka’s for a change. I mean, they make good food there, but for once I think it would be nice to have my own plate rather than cleaning up the leftovers after closing time.”

Fukunaga nodded out his agreement as the pair fell into true silence.  Conversation was always a little one sided between the two of them, but silences were comfortable and welcome.  It was nice to have a relaxed moment, away from the noise and craziness of his office, in which he could just be with someone who didn’t feel the need to run their mouth all the time.  If he didn’t think that Fukunaga give him a crazy look, Ennoshita would tell the other man that his silent presence was the best present he had ever received.

It was already dark when the pair arrived at the new café, string lights twisted around lamp posts and trees in order to light up the outdoor seating. Fukunaga and Ennoshita found themselves seated on the outside perimeter of the yard under a tree covered in sparkling white lights.  Ennoshita sat with his back facing the other patrons and Fukunaga lined his chair up with the tree, rolling one of the lights between his fingers as he pulled one of his feet under himself before sitting on it.

“Fuku.” Ennoshita called out his friend’s name, and laughed when he turned around so fast that he accidently pulled the small bulb out of its socket.  No one else seemed to notice the distress that appeared on Fukunaga’s face, so Ennoshita gently rubbed his knee under the wire-top table to calm him down.  “Let me know what you want and I’ll order it for you.”

Fukunaga nodded, tucking his hands under his thighs as he leaned forward over the table to look at the menu Ennoshita had spread out for him.   When he decided on something, he tapped the back of Ennoshita’s hand with his fingers before pointing out what he wanted. Ennoshita simply smiled at him and gave him a thumbs up to show that he understood.

Halfway through their meal, their relative peace was swiftly disturbed.  It started with a laugh heard from across the yard that made Ennoshita’s shoulders tense.  Fukunaga looked up at him with a worried look on his face, reaching across the table to squeeze Ennoshita’s fingers.  Ennoshita merely shook his head in response, denying that anything was the matter before turning his head down to face his plate.

Fukunaga leaned in closer, so that he could whisper with Ennoshita still able to hear him. “What’s wrong?”

Ennoshita was never able to answer because at that moment, a loud, shrill voice pierced through the soft music that had been playing since they arrived. “Chikara! Is that you?”

Instead of answering, Ennoshita simply pulled his free arm closer to himself, trying to make himself as small as possible while Fukunaga still held onto the fingers of his left hand.  Not like making himself smaller really mattered. He’d already been spotted.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me, silly!” The owner of the voice stepped closer, dragging a bored looking man by the wrist and leaving an irritated hostess five steps behind.  “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever!”

Ennoshita considered continuing to ignore her presence and return his attention to Fukunaga who was still sitting across from him with a hopeless look on his face. But his plans were foiled when she plopped down into the table directly next to theirs.

“Yoohoo, Chikara? I know you remember me, sweetie. What’s with the cold attitude?”

He swallowed a sip of his drink, nearly choking when an ice cube slipped down his throat along with the water before turning towards her with the most neutral expression he could muster.  “Did you expect something other than a cold attitude?”

“Well, yeah! We only dated for like, a month.  It wasn’t that big of a deal when we broke up, right?”

Her voice was grating on his ears, and he found himself squeezing Fukunaga’s fingers back as he tried to steady himself.  “It wouldn’t have been that big of a deal if you actually gave me the courtesy of a phone call to explain why you skipped out on our date.”

“What? I thought I did call you!”

Ennoshtia simply rolled his eyes before turning back to face his friend.

“Ooooh, you’re so mean, Chikara.  I thought we were still friends.  You don’t even introduce me to your date.”  She flips her long dark hair over her shoulder as she stands up from her table and tells Fukunaga her name.

When she presents a hand in a seemingly peaceful greeting, Fukunaga shrinks back, tucking his free hand under his leg again.  He lets out a little huff through his nose, and Ennoshita can feel a proud little grin spreading across his face at Fukunaga’s reaction. He manages to catch Fuku’s attention long enough for him to mouth ‘be nice’.

“Well that’s just rude.” She walks back to her table, crossing her legs in a broad arc as she tries to get her current date’s attention.  “The quality of the company you keep has certainly downgraded since I last saw you, Chikara.”

Ennoshita felt a laugh bubble up in his throat that came out sounding like a choked cough.  “At least Fuku would never blow me off on Valnetines day and then pretend that he wasn’t a complete bitch the next time he saw me.”

At the same moment that her jaw hit the floor, their waitress appeared, momentarily distracting from the tense atmosphere. Fukunaga had apparently decided that it was time to go because he pulled Ennoshita from the table, dropping more than enough money for their bill in the waitress’s hand as they left.

When they were finally far enough away from the café that it was only a sparkling light down the street, Ennoshita stopped walking, dragging a hand through his hair as he let out a soft groan.

“I’m really sorry about that. I never talked to her after that, even though you and everyone else told me I should.” Ennoshita squeezed Fukunaga’s fingers gently, conveying his apologies in a way his friend understood better.  “It got really out of hand really fast, and I’m sorry to drag you into it.”

Fukunaga simply smiled at him softly, patting down his hair where his fingers had just mussed it seconds prior.

“I wonder why she thought you were my date though?” Ennoshita laughed at the thought, continuing their walk down the street as Fukunaga fell into place beside him.  “That’s just weird isn’t it? We’re just friends.”

Ennoshita felt Fukunaga shake beside him, and assumed he was simply laughing in that odd, silent little way that he did.  He felt his hand get squeezed one last time before Fukunaga pulled his hand away, stuffing it into the pocket of his coat.

“It’s crazy how much you can like a person just a short amount of time ago and now….nothing.” Ennoshita shook his head, sticking his own hands into his pockets as his fingers now felt cold.  “Say, did you get enough to eat? We kind of ran out there without picking up what we had left.”

Fukunaga shook his head, with a faux exasperated look on his face as he bumped Ennoshita with his hip. He jutted his chin out at a fast food restaurant further down the road, and that was all the suggestion Ennoshita needed to get his quiet friend’s point.

\-------

At work that Monday, Ennoshita received a jar full of daffodils from Fukunaga. He joked with his female coworkers about how they must be from a secret admirer. He wasn’t going to get to see much of Fukunaga in the next few weeks due to his schedule at work, so the bright colors of the flowers cheered him up on what would’ve been a dreary Monday.

He let them sit out on his desk all day in the safest place he could keep them until he brought them home and sat them on his kitchen table that evening.

\------

It had been a few weeks since the incident at the café, and while Ennoshita had been spending more and more time with Fukunaga, something about him had seemed off lately.

“You’ve been really quiet lately.”

Fukunaga looks up from where he is hanging backwards off of the couch, his legs thrown up over the back and his head nearly brushing the carpet of Ennoshita’s living room. He takes a second to pause the game he’s been playing while Ennoshita reads a book before raising an eyebrow at him.

“I mean….more than usual?” He slides a piece of paper between the pages of his book before snapping it shut, and coming to sit closer to Fukunaga.  “Normally, you still try to talk to me without all the words, but I haven’t been getting anything from you lately.”

Fukunaga just stares at him, his eyes blank as they blink slowly.

“Is everything all right, Fuku?”

He just shrugs in response to the question, causing his shirt to ride up over his belly and bumping his head on the ground as he nearly tipped off the couch.  Ennoshita manages to catch him by the arm to keep him from falling, but not before his foot knocked into the small table at the end of the couch.  Luckily, the lamp sitting on the table remained upright, but that couldn’t be said of the small vase Fukunaga had set there when he came to Ennoshita’s apartment that afternoon.

Fukunaga quickly rights himself, scrambling over to rescue the lavender and coral roses he had brought with him for Ennoshita.  He hissed as a shard of glass nipped his finger, sticking it into his mouth as Ennoshita pulled him away from the mess.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ll clean this up.  It’s not a big deal.”

Fukunaga nodded slowly, standing up and walking to the kitchen as he held the handful of flowers to his chest.  He found a tall glass to stick them in, listening as Ennoshita hunted through the hallway closet for a towel and his vacuum to clean up the mess.  It was only when he heard the vacuum cleaner click on did he allow himself to inspect the bruised petals of his flowers, feeling like a large stone was caught in his throat as he pressed his tongue to the cut on his finger. He reached out, brushing the fingers of his uninjured hand along the petals of one coral rose. He didn’t even notice when the noise in the other room stopped until Ennoshita’s hand dropped down on his shoulder.

“Hey, are you okay?”  Ennoshita used his hand to turn his friend away from the flowers, frown lines crossing his forehead when he saw the state that he was in.  “Fuku, why are you crying? Is it hurting?”

Fukunaga turned his face to the ground, allowing himself to be pushed down into one of the kitchen chairs before Ennoshita started rummaging through drawers to find the first aid kit he kept there in case of emergencies.  When he returned to Fukunaga’s side, he kneeled down on the ground, grabbing his injured arm by the elbow to pull it away from his mouth. Ennoshita held tight to his wrist when he began dabbing the cut on his finger with peroxide, predicting that Fukunaga would try to yank his arm away when it began stinging.

“It hurts.”

Ennoshita looked up from where he was kneeling to see a very distressed looking Fukunaga with his uninjured hand wrapped up in the front of his shirt. 

“It’s not really that deep.  I’m almost done. Don’t worry.”

Fukunaga just shook his head, unwinding his hand from his shirt as he let out the shaky sigh that meant Ennoshita wasn’t understanding.

“What is it?”

“Here.” With his free hand, he reaching out, prodding a finger against the left side of Ennoshita’s chest. Ennoshita sighed, reaching up to hold his hand there, Fukunaga’s fingers spreading out until his palm was flush with the cloth of Ennoshita’s shirt.

“Why does your heart hurt?” He whispered, the warmth from the other man’s hand melting through his shirt, heating his skin as his heart beat began to speed up.

Instead of finding a way to answer, Fukunaga shook his head again.  He stood from the chair, pulling both of his hands out of Ennoshita’s grasp.  He let out a pained moan when his hurt finger rubbed against the rough skin of Ennoshita’s hands, but he ignored his friend’s concerned look as he walked back into the living room and began searching for his shoes.

Ennoshita simply watched him from a distance, only approaching once Fukunaga slid his feet into his sneakers.  He placed a hand on his shoulder, turning him around.  “If I did something wrong, you have to tell me.  I want to be able to fix it, Fuku.”

Fukunaga gave a forced smile, the corners of his mouth barely tilting upwards as he lifted a hand to cup the side of Ennoshita’s face with his hand. Ennoshita’s breath caught in his throat as he felt Fukunaga’s thumb brush along the corner of his lips, but as soon as the touch was there, it was gone.  Fukunaga had already turned away, and was halfway out the door before Ennoshita was able to start breathing freely once more.

 He felt a strong desire in the pit of his stomach to go after him. To figure out what had just transpired.  But he was so damn confused about the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears and the heated blush that was rising on his face to think about anything else but the soft pad of Fukunaga’s thumb sliding across his bottom lip.

\-----

Ennoshita knocked on the door to Inuoka’s restaurant 30 minutes after closing time.  It had been over an hour since Fukunaga had slipped out of his apartment and left him in a frenzied state, so Ennoshita decided to do some investigating with the one other person in town that might be able to understand the way the quiet guy had acted.

Inuoka sat him up on a barstool in the back kitchen where he was busy cleaning off the stove in preparation for the next day.  He kept trying to get Ennoshita to take some food so that he didn’t have to throw it out, but he refused due to the fact that he doubted his stomach could take much more after the way it had been flopping around for the last hour.

“It’s strange. I’ve never seen you here without Fukunaga-san!”  Inuoka had already been chattering away for a good ten minutes, obviously feeling the long drawl of a slow Sunday.

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.  He’s been acting odd lately.”

“Odder than normal?”  Inuoka paused in his scrubbing of the stove for a second to think.  “He’s always been a little weird, which makes it hard for him to make friends.  But he’s a good guy.”

Ennoshita picked at a loose hair sticking to his pants, his face turned towards the floury ground. “Yeah I know, which is why I’m worried I upset him.”

“Fukunaga-san upset? I doubt it.”  Inuoka turned around, wiping an arm across his sweaty forehead as he leaned against the stove.  “What happened?”

“I was asking if something was wrong, he knocked over a vase, and when I was bandaging a cut he got from trying to pick it up, he said his heart hurt.” Ennoshita deliberately omitted the part about the face touch.

“Ooooh, did the vase have flowers in it?”

“What else do you keep in a vase?”

Inuoka shrugs, turning back to the stove to resume his scrubbing.  “Fukunaga-san has never talked much, so he always tried to talk to people he cares about in different ways.  Flowers are one of those ways.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean like…I don’t know.” Inuoka grunted as he rubbed at a particularly tough burnt spot before tossing his brush in the sink.  “I guess all flowers have some sort of meaning associated with them, so Fukunaga never gives one to someone unless he wants them to share the meaning.  Like he always brings my parents tiger lilies because they’re supposed to mean something about wealth, and the days we have them sitting on the hostess stand are the days we make more money.”

Ennoshita scratched at his head, frowning at the suggestion Inuoka was making. “So you’re saying that if Fukunaga gave me flowers, it probably meant something.”

“Oh it’s not a probably, Ennoshita-san. If he gave you a flower, even if it was just one, he had something he wanted you to know but he couldn’t find another way to say it.  It may help you understand what he is feeling right now if you go find out what they mean.”

Ennoshita slid off of his barstool, and thanked Inuoka for his suggestion.  He had a long night ahead, and he was ready to get started.

\-----

The first thing Ennoshita discovered when he first began searching for the meaning of flowers online was just how many flowers there were that had a meaning behind them.  Hell, before he had met Fukunaga, he never even realized roses could come in another color apart from the standard red, white, and pink.  And each with their own meaning associated with their color.

He decided roses were a good place to start as any, as that seemed to have been Fukunaga’s weapon of choice from the beginning.  He remembered back to the first time Fukunaga had stuck that yellow flower in his pocket on Valentine’s day, and was pleased to learn that yellow was simply just a gesture of friendship. Remembering how pleased Fukunaga was when he pulled that one yellow flower out of the wasted bouquet made him happy, and he found himself smiling at the memory.

The second flower he remembered receiving from Fukunaga was a deep pink rose.  With all of the different shades of pink having a meaning to them, the closest match meant something along the lines of thankfulness and appreciation.  Ennoshita cocked his head to the side, curious as to what that could mean.  He couldn’t think of anything that would cause Fukunaga to give him a token of appreciation, but he supposed that if he had something to be grateful for, Ennoshita should be glad to take his thanks.

The next bunch of flowers he received were daffodils, but since he was already on a page about roses, Ennoshita decided to stay the course and continue on with the flowers he had received from Fukunaga earlier that day.  When he scrolled down to the bottom of the page where the coral and lavender meanings were displayed, Ennoshita felt that familiar tightness in his chest that reminded him of every time Fukunaga ever did something that could be justifiably qualified as ‘adorable’.  He almost wanted to pretend that the meanings weren’t solid and completely possible, especially considering this is exactly the sort of thing Fukunaga would do if he didn’t know how to express his feelings.

The lavender rose stood for love at first sight or enchantment, while the coral held strong feelings of the giver desiring the recipient.

If these meanings are truly how Fukunaga has been feeling, Ennoshita finally understood why he must’ve been so upset.

As he thought about the implications of Fukunaga giving him those flowers, Ennoshita could feel his chest clench up with a deep seated worry that he had truly hurt the other male.  He wasn’t sure what he wanted from his friendship with Fukunaga, but he did know that he really enjoyed being around him.  He liked the way he felt when he was with him, and he often found himself wanting to be with him more often than any other person he knew.  Hell, he probably did like Fukunaga in a way that was more than just friends; he was just too dense to see it in himself.

Ennoshita felt like slapping himself before getting up and running over to Fukunaga’s place to see if he was alright. He remembered every compliment Fukunaga sent his way.  Every touch that made his heart beat speed up and every smile that he never wanted to end.  He could completely understand why Fukunaga had been hurt since he had been acting like a love smitten idiot without even realizing it.  What was even more pathetic was the fact that he _was_ a love smitten idiot when he sat down and thought about it.  He loved being around Fukunaga more than anything lately, and the potential of losing him because he was as dense as a rock scared him more than he would want to admit.

In his moment of self-revelation, Ennoshita almost forgot to check the significance of the daffodils Fukunaga had sent him at work a few weeks ago.  He didn’t think that they would allow for much more of a revelation than had already been made, but oh how wrong he was.

He found lots of different meanings for daffodils. Some were sweet and made him blush imagining if that was the message Fukunaga had intended. ‘You’re the only one’ and ‘the sun is always shining when I’m with you’.  But as Ennoshita scrolled to the bottom of the page, he realized that the last definition is probably more along the lines of the message Fukunaga was sending him than the others. 

‘Unrequited love.’

It kind of made him angry, seeing Fukunaga think like that. Did he not have faith in Ennoshita? But as he calmed down, he realized it was more his fault than Fukunaga’s for not picking up on the signals earlier.  But he wanted and needed to show him that he was wrong.  That it wasn’t unrequited.  That he could love him too.

He was going to make it up to him.

And he was going to do it in the way Fukunaga would understand.

\-------

Since it was already late on Sunday night when Ennoshita finally decided the best course of action, he decided to wait until the following evening to put his plan to work.  He just hoped that Fukunaga would still be at the flower shop when he got off of work.

It was nearly impossible to focus on his job.  He got asked if he was sick, if he was hung over, or if someone had died due to the way he was acting.  He knew he was spacing out more often than necessary, but he couldn’t help it.  He was stuck wondering how his gesture would be received.  Would Fukunaga reject him? Or would Ennoshtia get to see that rare, full face smile that Fukunaga only displayed when he was really, truly happy?  The difference in possibilities were staggering, and he was worried that if he was rejected, he would lose the one real companion he had managed to make over the course of his time in Tokyo.

Luckily for him, Ennoshita’s boss decided to send him home early, telling him to come back the next day with his head out of his ass.  It was just after 4 o’clock when he arrived at a flower shop on the other side of town, picking out two flowers that matched the way he felt.  He would’ve gone to Fukunaga’s shop to get them, but he figured that would have ruined the surprise.

When he got to the front door of his friend’s shop, he noticed that the normally soft, dim lights were completely turned off, and the sign on the door was flipped to closed.  Ennoshita sighed, considering turning back towards home before he decided to just reach out and try the handle.  The door pulled back, allowing Ennoshita inside with a  jingle of the bell.

Fukunaga was sitting behind the front counter, arms wrapped around his head as he slumped over the table top.  Ennoshita would’ve sworn he was asleep if it wasn’t for the large black headphones wrapped around the top of his head.  He didn’t move as Ennoshita walked in, clearly too caught up in whatever was playing in his ears.

Ennoshita smiled to himself, appreciating the curved line of his back as he walked closer.  Fukunaga always had really bad posture, making him look short and fragile when really, he was taller than Ennoshita. But his back had always looked nice, Ennoshita thought, even with his shoulders hunched over.

He walked around the counter, settling a hand on the back of Fukunaga’s shoulder to get his attention. The man jumped, nearly falling off of his stool as he slapped Ennoshita’s hand away in self-defense. Once he righted himself, he slowly pulled the headphones away from his ears, setting them on the counter as he waited for Ennoshita to speak.

“You ran out so fast last night. I was worried about you.”

Fukunaga shrugged, legs swinging back and forth on either side of his seat as he turned his face away to avoid Ennoshita’s gaze.

“I think I figured out why you were upset, Fuku. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.” Ennoshita tried to suppress the smile that was coming to his lips as he watched Fukunaga’s cheeks go red.  The reaction made him realize that he was probably right on the money with his assumptions, and gave him the courage to take the next step.  “Fuku, look at me.”

Still keep his head turned slightly to the side, Fukunaga turned his gaze back to Ennoshita, looking at him through the side of his eye.

“I’m sorry for not realizing the way you felt sooner.  But I have something for you that describes the way I feel.” Fukunaga cocks his head to the side, curiously watching Ennoshita’s hands as he reaches inside his coat to pull out a thorn-less red rose in full bloom. The petals got a little squished in transit, but the way Fukunaga’s eyes lit up as he watched it pass from Ennoshita’s hands to his own was priceless.  He continued to stare at the flower as his fingers wrapped around the stem, off in his own little dream world as Ennoshita waited for him to react.

“Fuku…”

When his name is called, Fukunaga’s head pops up from where he had been spacing out to pin Ennoshita down with an incredulous look, as if he didn’t quite believe the significance of what the flower was trying to say.

“Look, I spent all night looking up what flowers mean, and what the ones you gave me meant, and I just…” Ennoshita sighs, running a hand through his hair as he tried to come up with the right words. “Just…sometimes I need to hear or see words in order to understand the way someone is feeling.  I was so comfortable around you that I didn’t realize what your gestures meant. But that…” Ennoshita nodded at the flower still held between Fukunaga’s hands. “That is how I feel about you, and I hope you can accept it.”

Fukunaga rolled the flower’s stem between his fingers, making the petals turn in a quick circle as he stared up at Ennoshita. A healthy blush had started to flood his face, but other than that, he did not react.

“Fuku, please-” Ennoshita’s plea was cut off when he felt a finger pressing against his lips to silence him.  He raised an eyebrow at Fukunaga, questioning what the other man was doing before he felt a tug on the front of his coat.  Ennoshita pressed a hand to his pocket, trying to keep Fukunaga from pulling his coat open and seeing the other flower with little success.

With a sigh, he finally let his coat fall open so that he could pull out the second rose he had stashed away.  It was orange and made Fukunaga’s face light up like nothing else.  “This one was supposed to be for after you accepted my feelings.  I was going to say I’ll give it to you if you give me a kiss.”

Fukunaga laughed softly, his entire face squishing up into the most beautiful smile Ennoshita had even laid his eyes on.  It took his breath away and nearly distracted him from the moment Fukunaga stood up and planted a sweet kiss on his lips.  It didn’t last more than a few seconds before Fukunaga pulled away, humming happily as he grabbed both flowers and walked into the back room.

Ennoshita felt his mouth fall open, stunned into silence as he watched Fukunaga’s retreating back.  He followed after him seconds later, finding him rummaging around on the top of his work bench as he looked for something.  Ennoshita grabbed him by the hips as he spun him around, pushing Fukunaga’s back into the table as he kissed him again.  Fukunaga’s hands stayed between them as Ennoshita pressed closer, squishing the flowers further as his fingers dug into the other man’s boney hips.  Ennoshita smiled against Fukunaga’s mouth as he heard him let out a happy sigh, letting the flowers drop to the ground in favor of wrapping his arms around Ennoshita’s neck.

They stayed like that until Fukunaga pulled away, eyes glittering as he tilted his head up to press a quick peck to the tip of Ennoshita’s nose.  Ennoshita felt warm all over, like he was laying out in the middle of a mild summer day, so he grabbed Fukunaga by the cheeks, pulling him close again to kiss the center of his forehead.  Fukunaga giggled in a way that shouldn’t be allowed to adult men as he tucked his face to the side of Ennoshita’s neck, humming happily as his hands ran over his new boyfriend’s strong shoulders.

Back in February before he had been stood up, before he had met Fukunaga, the best feeling he could imagine when thinking of his significant other was walking on water.  He didn’t realize how dangerous that was as one snap would have him sinking to the bottom.

But with Fukunaga, it was different.  Of course it was different, because he had never met someone like him before.

Fukunaga was the warmth of a summer’s day.

A soft scarf wrapped around a cold neck.

Rough fingers tracing patterns into the soft side of his arm.

Light smiles and meaningful glances that lasted only until they disappeared.

Flower petals gliding against the tips of his fingers.

They had a long way to go.  Ennoshita had so much more to learn about how Fukunaga ticked.  But even if he could never say out loud how he felt, everything was still going to be alright because being together like this was arguably the best feeling in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> (I was going to have them do the do but I promised myself I'd keep this ship fluff.)
> 
> but anyway.... 
> 
> Honestly flower language is the best because Fuku can use it to express his feelings without actually having to say them. Because do you think this kid who never talks would actually flat out say that he likes someone? I don't.
> 
> Also : red roses obvs mean I love you.  
> Orange roses are used to symbolize passion, enthusiasm, and desire.
> 
> Thanks for reading. This ship is really cute yo!


End file.
